Waterloo
Chapter Two: Secrets Hidden, Secrets Revealed Disclaimer: If I had as much money as J.K Rowling did, would I even be here? I'll probably be rolling around in gold or something, throwing fifty-dollar bills in the air. But enough with my wistful dreaming. Oh yeah, no copyright or trademark infringement intended.Summary: How can one simple decision change the outcome of the world? It happened to Napoleon. It may happen to Harry Potter, and the wizarding world.
Pairings: Draco/Hermione
Dedication: Written in their respective wishes, my lovely Dragonboat sisters, Brittney Hugelshofer, and Cherise Louie.
Author's Note: I know this story may sound slightly OOC (Out of Character), but I'll do my best to try and keep the story flowing. My concepts of Harry Potter may be incorrect so please, feel free to correct any of my mistakes. Oh yes, italics are flashbacks. Warning! Warning! Ok, this story will be slightly slightly AU (Alternate Universe because this was planned way before HBP was released. I didn't get around to write it, ok? Get off my back. So please, no comments on AUness because they will not be tolerated. I read the bloody book, capeesh?
When love is not madness, it is not love. Pedro Calderon de la Barca
"Malfoy," Hermione breathed, her eyes widening with fear.
"Tut tut, Granger. Didn't Potty and Weasel teach you not to mess with the Dark Arts? Tell me, did they let go of the tight rein that they usually keep you on?" Malfoy sneered, his trademark smirk flitting across his face.
"Shut up, Malfoy. It's none of your business," Hermione snapped.
"Oh, but it is, my dear mudblood," Malfoy drawled. "You see, you're a Death Eater, darling."
Hermione snarled back, "I am well aware of that, Malfoy. Your point?"
"My point, as you so eloquently put it, is that you are at a Death Eater meeting without the presence of your precious Potty and Weasel, and a servant of the Dark Lord to boot! Merlin, I didn't know you had it in you, Granger!" Malfoy said, while simultaneously raising his left eyebrow with mock surprise.
"Had precisely what in me, Malfoy?" Hermione spat viciously.
Malfoy gestured aristocratically at the dark figures slowly leaving the clearing, "The Dark Side! Contempt, evil, black magic, it doesn't matter what you call it, but it's core exists right here with the Dark Lord. And you, mudblood have it."
"I don't know what you're talking about Malfoy, but I don't care," Hermione retorted, and strode off with her robes swirling.
He just laughed.
The Hogwarts' train whistled shrilly, signaling for everybody to climb onto that bright red train. That train had brought much magic, joy, excitement, and several adventures. It never occurred to any occupant that it would be the starting point of a long run of secrecy, lies, and betrayal.
Hermione slowly stepped into the train, dreading the inevitable meeting of her friends. She couldn't tell them about her recent affiliation with the Dark Lord. Especially not the part about being a death eater, even if she was doing it for Harry. And the part about Malfoy.
"Hermione! Over here!" a voice yelled to her left. She turned and saw Ron waving manically from a compartment in her direction.
She faked a large smile, and walked toward Harry and Ron.
"Hey, how was your summer?" Harry inquired. "You didn't stay at the Burrow this time."
"Yeah, I know," Hermione replied. "My parents wanted me to spend the summer with them. Her heart twinged slightly at the lie she so smoothly created.
"Too bad," Ron commented, his mouth full of pumpkin pastry. "Charlie came round, told us all these fantastic stories about the dragons." He lowered his voice. "They're trying to get them all on our side. Charlie reckons that You-Know-Who would never suspect the dragons, cause they never choose sides."
"Shhhh, Ron. Don't say anything here. You know what Dumbledore said." Harry hissed, his emerald eyes darting around nervously. "You never know who's listening."
"Oh yeah. Dumbledore says to not mention any of the Order stuff, to anyone except us and the Order members. There could be spies of You-Know-Who anywhere, and this kind of information is valuable to You-Know-Who."
Hermione inwardly flinched at the words "spies of You-Know-Who". If only they knew what she had been up to. They would throw a fit, consider her untrustworthy, and worst of all sever all ties of friendship, and mark her as a power crazed Voldemort worshipping witch.
While she was silently thinking, Harry and Ron had moved the conversation onto a safe topic, Quidditch. Hermione soon tuned out the conversation, and stared out the window, watching the countryside blur past.
The Great Hall glittered as always, with the empty plates and goblets. Stars shone down the students and professors of Hogwarts. The Sorting Ceremony had just ended.
Hermione spied Dumbledore rising at the head of the teachers' table. Somehow, he looked older, wearier. The twinkle of his blue eyes that comforted them over the years had diminished.
"Welcome everyone to another year at Hogwarts! I trust your summers were full happiness. But as you know, dark times are upon us. We must stand together, united as a single force, to even have to chance to purge this world of evil," Dumbledore said solemnly. Then his face broke into a tired smile. "Mr. Filch has also reminded me that there is to be no magic to be used in corridors. The Forbidden Forest is off-limits to anyone that does not want to die a most untimely death. And now, let's eat!" Dumbledore said as he sat down.
Hermione pondered Dumbledore's words, standing together as one. She thought becoming a Death Eater was hardly considered uniting. Harry interrupted her thoughts by leaning across the table and whispering, "Malfoy's up to something. He's been staring at us for about ten minutes."
Casually, Ron and Hermione peered at the Slytherin table. Sure enough, Malfoy was looking at them peculiarly. He smirked, and slowly, deliberately, winked at Hermione. Hermione flushed, and immediately focused all of her attention on her mashed potatoes. Ron snorted and said, "Git. Probably trying to plot something against us again. Frankly, I wouldn't put it past him with his father being a Death Eater and all. Heck, he's most likely a Death Eater anyways." He dug into his roast beef with relish.
The Great Feast eventually came to an end, and everybody headed up to their dorms. The trio chatted along and they walked to the Gryffindor tower, full and very sleepy. They turned a corner, and came into contact with none other than Malfoy.
"Well, well. Isn't it the heroic Gryffindor trio?" Malfoy drawled.
"Sod off, Malfoy." Harry spat.
"My, what a dirty mouth you have Potter. I should have the house elves wash it out with soap," Malfoy drawled. "Speaking of dirty, you seem to be a little moody since I saw you two weeks ago, mudblood."
Hermione froze. Harry and Ron looked at her quizzically, and slightly accusingly.
Malfoy's expression turned to sheer delight as he saw the faces of Harry and Ron. "Surely you told them of our little rendezvous, haven't you Granger?"
Ron's face turned scarlet and he started spluttering, while Harry shot a questioning look at Hermione.
"Ah, well, it seems you haven't. I'll let you three catch up them," Malfoy smirked. He walked down the hall.
Hermione's insides writhed, as Harry and Ron faced her, demanding answers.
Red are roses,
Blue are the seas,
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Love,
Vinyalambe.
